One Day More
by TurningPageStew
Summary: Isabella Swan was born and raised in the gutters of France. When the mayor, Edward Cullen, offers her a chance she can't pass up. Her life will change, but will it be for the better or will it take a turn for the worst?


**Hey everyone! So you may know me from my fanfic 'Simple Love.' I will continue to write that however, this story came to me as I was listening to the Les Misérables soundtrack and I needed to write it down. So I figured it was worth a shot. Enjoy! ~Bre**

Chapter 1: Kingdom Where Nobody Dies

My name is Isabella Swan, and I live in the alley ways of a town just outside of Paris, France. I was born into the life of poverty, both my mother, Renee, and my father, Charlie, have lived this way their entire lives, just as I have. They're quite cruel here, locking us in the alley – only letting us out occasionally. We never got food unless someone gave us a handout, or whatever we could find in the dumpsters before getting caught. It was a hard life to live, but I've never known any different.

Both of my parents passed away when I was 12 of malnutrition and the freezing winters we have had. Any blanket or article of clothing they found, they would give it to me so I could stay warm. I'd refuse and tell them to keep warm, but my mother would always say 'shush darling, you need to stay alive. There's something much more in this world out there for you.' When I was younger I believed every word that came out of her mouth. If she said the sky was purple, then the sky was purple. As I grew older I learned to never keep hope. It was dangerous, and you set yourself up for disappointment and emotional suffering. The life I live had no room for childish behavior and feelings.

"I brought you a gift, my lady." Michael Newton, who insisted him and I were destined to be together and have children. I would never bring a child into this life; I didn't want this for myself let alone anyone else. He held up his hand – which was filled with rat feces.

"Thanks but, no thank you. That is disgusting." I made a face in response to the repulsiveness.

"You're starting to sound like the rich folk that walk past us," he rolled his eyes. I was starting to believe he was more of a girl than I was.

"I would much rather be one of the snobby rich people than sit around here in dirt and urine. Don't you ever wonder what it would be like if we had been born to another family?" I asked thoughtfully. He just laughed, shook his head, and mumbled 'Yeah, right,' before walking away. I sighed to myself.

What would I do if my family wasn't poor? All I would want is a warm shower and food, nothing more. The thought of food made my stomach hurt, I can easily count every one of my ribs and it was truly a terrifying sight.

I sat by the gate that leads into the alley, which is always closed and locked. People passed by and would look at me with pity. They would say things like 'Poor girl, she could be very beautiful,' or 'It's a shame this government is so cruel.'

The gate at the opposite end of the alley creaked open, causing me to cower against the wall. The sound of people's screams and the sound of the iron bar crushing the skulls of anyone who tried to escape made my stomach queasy. When the government officials came it could be good or bad, but more times than not it was bad. They walked closer to me and fear coursed through my body. I never done anything bad, not that I can remember at least. Unless someone turned me in for rummaging through the bakers dumpster, but others did it as well – not just me. In all my sixteen years I have yet to get in any trouble, I rarely ever ventured out of the alley when they allowed us. So why were they here for me?

The tall, well dressed man walked over to me. "Are you Isabella Swan?" His voice was heavily laced with the French accent. He gave no greeting, no ounce of kindness in his voice. I merely nodded. "What was that? I cannot hear your head moving." I cringed at his icy tone.

"Y-yes monsieur, I am Isabella." I stammered, trying to be respectful at the same time.

"Stand, you are coming with me." My eyes widened in shock and terror. I stood as I was commanded, my knees wobbling under me. He took his stick and tapped my back, indicating me to walk. As if I was some dog I walked on command. He guided me to a building that looked fairly run down, but still nicer than the alley. He pushed me inside with the stick and I had to hold back the yelp that wanted to escape my throat. I looked around, realizing where I was. This was the clothing factory; I saw the outside of the building one time when I ventured out. Here they got clothes, scraps of food, and money – very little money, but nonetheless it was money. Something I have never touched before in my life.

"Monsieur, why am I here?" I asked sheepishly, unsure if I was allowed to speak or not.

"You are here to work. You were chosen by the mayor to fill a spot." He sat a stack of clothes and some bread on the table. "Change, eat, get ready to work." I was out of the gutters – I had clothes and food now. My life was changing, and hope sparked inside me.


End file.
